TO DAVID:

I want you to know, I see the questions that you have.

The ones that sit right behind the furor in your brow,

the ones you keep to yourself, even as you chose the most traditional of vows.

And I know, you will keep these questions inside you, tucked behind probing eyes

because you do not trust the pastoral me, or perhaps just the traditionality of it all.

In the moment, I am reminded of that wise old tale –

the one from India or maybe Africa (somewhere older and wiser than here).

The story that talks about God as an elephant in a dark room:

As men enter, each touches a piece of the elephant and tries in turn to describe God.

One man touches the leg, and says God is sturdy and round like a tree trunk.

Another touched the tusk and says God is strong and sharp, like a sword.

Another, the trunk, saying God is a glorious fountain.

Yet another, the ear, proclaiming God is a cooling fan.

As your pastor, I am not here to tell you

That God is a tree or a fountain or a sword.

Rather I am here to ask:

“when you are in the dark, what is it that you feel?”

And to hold your questions gently, as they unfurl from your brow.

(c) 2019, CMK